


A Dollar a Kiss

by Selenay



Series: Assorted Fictional Recollections (AKA the prompt fics) [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, Kissing Booths, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil checked the money box. The quarters in there added up to...a lot more than a dollar. It might even have been three dollars. Or four.</p>
<p>It had to be a joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dollar a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ralkana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/gifts).



> Written for the AU meme on Tumblr, but as is traditional, it got a little longer than planned. Ralkana asked for 10 (high school popular/nerd kid AU), C/C.

The kissing booth was all Maria's idea. It got picked in committee, nine votes to one, because it was Maria's idea.

Maybe a little because nobody had a better idea, or at least, one that didn't involve another car wash or bake sale.

Mostly, though, it was because Maria had proposed it, and Pepper seconded it, and nobody put forward anything else.

Phil had been the lone dissenting voice. He suspected that was why he was manning the booth. The Jackson High Debate Club was probably going to find itself needing a bake sale or four anyway, because he was pretty sure nobody was going to pay a dollar to kiss him. He was hoping nobody would pay a dollar to kiss him. The reviews on his past kisses had been...unflattering.

Amy Bright hadn't come back for seconds, anyway, which he was taking as a damning review.

The kissing booth was really more of a kissing desk, with a wobbly chair and a sign propped up announcing the prices. If Tony Stark hadn't come down with a convenient case of tonsillitis two days ago, they might have stood some hope of raising enough money. Nobody had dared to suggest that any of the girls work the booth, so that had left Phil.

Dissenting voice and bad kisser.

Manning a kissing booth.

He watched the student population walking past his desk without any real hope. A few people glanced his way, there were a few snickers, but mostly everyone was ignoring him. That was absolutely fine, though, because a kissing booth was a bad idea and he was only there out of a vague feeling of obligation to the club. 

Maybe not so vague, otherwise he wouldn't be there at all.

Point was, the kissing booth was a terrible idea. Phil was already mentally planning out the advertising campaign for the bake sale and car wash, when a handful of coins rattled into his money box.

He looked up.

Clint Barton was smirking down at him.

Phil checked the money box. The quarters in there added up to...a lot more than a dollar. It might even have been three dollars. Or four.

It had to be a joke.

"What does a guy have to do to get some service around here?" Barton asked, the smirk still firmly in place.

Phil narrowed his eyes. "Not mocking me would be a good start."

"Huh?"

He pointed to the box. "You're overpaying."

Barton shrugged. "Nope. I'm giving you all the change I have. It adds up to four kisses. I checked."

"How is that not mockery?"

"It's only mocking if I don't actually want the kisses." Barton's smile widened. "It's not a joke. I'm supporting the debate club, building school spirit. All that shit the principle keeps monologueing on."

"You really paid for four?"

"I really did."

"Why?"

Barton shrugged. "Because I wanted to?"

Phil did a quick visual survey of the area, but he couldn't see anything odd. No cameras, none of Barton's friends were hanging around suspiciously. It didn't look like a setup, but a guy like Barton didn't pay to kiss someone like Phil. It just didn't happen. The universe would implode or something, because the Bartons of the world didn't just cross the popularity line and pay to make out with the Phils of the world.

"If you want to support the club," Phil said, "you can just give a donation."

"Your sign says pay a dollar, get a kiss," Barton said. "I paid my dollars."

Phil sighed. Maybe he should just get it over with. The four dollars would probably be all they made today, anyway.

He straightened in his chair. Met Barton's eyes. Nodded.

Watched as Barton leaned over, tilted his head slightly, and touched their lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Phil's breath was coming too fast when Barton drew back slightly.

"One," Barton said, puffing warm air across Phil's lips. "Two?"

"Two," Phil agreed without hesitation.

There was some nibbling this time, a hint of tongue, and somehow Phil's hands had drifted up to bury themselves in Clint's hair by the time they parted.

Clint's lips brushed against Phil's as he said, "Three?"

Phil had to swallow before he could say, "Three."

There was definitely tongue this time, and teeth, and something amazing that Clint did to Phil's lower lip as he pulled back, that made Phil whimper.

When had Barton turned into Clint?

Wait, that wasn't the important part.

Phil slowly opened his eyes, noticing for the first time that there were flecks of gold in the depths Clint's blue ones. They were beautiful. He'd never thought about the exact shade of Clint's eyes before.

Clint pulled back, far enough for Phil to see that his lips were red and shiny. He wanted to kiss them again, but Clint seemed to be putting distance between them. More distance than they'd had for...a few minutes. Oh.

Too much distance.

How many kisses had Clint paid for?

Oh god, had he been so bad at kissing that Clint wanted his money back?

"I'm going to take a rain check on the last one," Clint said. "How much do I have to pay for a date?"

Phil blinked. He must have misheard.

"I can refund you," he said. "If you've had enough."

"You know, for an intelligent guy, you don't take hints well," Clint said.

Oh.

"A date is ten dollars," Phil found himself saying.

"Hang on one minute, I've got to find Natasha and borrow something."

Before he could stop himself, Phil grabbed Clint's wrist and held on. "No, wait."

He fumbled in a pocket and pulled out two crumpled bills, throwing them in the money box with maybe a little more force than the gesture strictly required. Phil wasn't even sure they actually were fives. He could figure that out later.

A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of Clint's mouth. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Phil said.

"Awesome." Clint started to lean in, stopped, and pulled back with a rueful shake of his head. "I'll collect number four later, I guess."

"I'll throw in a couple of freebies with the date," Phil offered. "Kind of like a fire sale. I've got to pack up soon, anyway."

"Awesome. So, four now?"

"Four now, definitely."

The Jackson High Debate Society kissing booth made exactly fourteen dollars. Phil considered it a total success.


End file.
